Lost Creek Hollow Corpse bride

indra's sleepy consternation gave way to chilling horror once she saw what nunataq had dragged to their den. the very presence of the dead packmate darkened their door, and an implacable sense of bone-curdling dread seized her.

her throat worked silently, bobbing up and down as her tongue moved soundlessly. she tried to speak and nothing but a hoarse gasp came out -- there, in all of her deceased and rotting glory sat the dearly-buried, painfully departed form of coelho's half-eaten (and now, almost fully consumed by grubs and maggots) form.

she could not wrench her eyes from the grisly sight; bone and liquid flesh, dirt-tattered fur, soft, sunken skin that draped in fallow canvas over a collapsed and riven body.

she stepped back in disgust, the horror giving way to fleeting panic: "wh-- nunataq, no!" she cried, flinging her skin-crawling alarm aside to nudge the girl roughly away. she could get sick she could get hurt she could --- suddenly indra was aware of the implacations of desecrating a deceased wolf's remains --they could get kicked out and be homeless and oh, my god, nuna what have you done --

she steeled her revulsion and bent down to nunataq's level - words would mean little here, but the reproachfulness of her gaze would be enough to communicate what nunataq had done was bad -- not just bad, but wrong.

good god, had she eaten any of her?

she shuddered, imbued by a sense of timely urgency: if any of the hollow wolves caught wind of this - oh god, if they saw her -- indra, against all sense of decency, plunged down upon the corpse and shut her teeth around a rotted leg. eyes shut, she started to heave and drag the body away from the den, away from culpability -- hoping against hope that no wolf would come across them before coelho was (respectfully and solemnly so very sorry) interred back into her grave.